The Cherry Blossom Orchard
by Twipotterfreak28
Summary: "They line us up like animals at a market, choosing us to be something we are unprepared for and forcing us to deal with it. Husbands can kill their wives because we are but pieces of property to them. I want to change that! I want a choice! I do not want to be seen and not heard- touched then tossed aside. Women were meant for more... I intend to see our choices given back to us!"
1. Chosen

_Hey guys. I know I shouldn't be starting this... but I just let 2 stories go, so that's got to count for something. Remember, some stories are still up for adoption. Now crack open a bag of chips, put your feet up, and enjoy the show._

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. I make no profit whatsoever from writing this._

_This story is **unbeta'ed**... cause I'm weird._

**(Hermione pov)** _- No time line whatsoever- Before modern technology. No magic involved... unless you count intellectual ability. Then there is tons of magic._

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_However, each one of you also must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband._

**- Ephesians 5:33**

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"Hermione!" Mother called from outside as she walked through the wooden door. "There is a package for you today."

"Thank you, Mother," I said, holding my hands out and grasping the small brown box that she lay in my hands. "Have you any idea what it is?"

"I was not aware of anything coming for you today," She replied, her brow furrowing. "But I do have an inkling as to what it might be."

"I do, too," I frowned. It was coming to that time of year again. "Perhaps we should wait until Ginny returns?"

"Yes, best to wait for your sister. You know how jittery she gets over things like this. In fact... I have a box for her, too. Her first one." Mother smiled, before clapping her hands and prancing deeper into the house, her deep blue dress splaying out behind her.

I frowned and walked towards mine and Ginny's room, laying down on the soft blanket on my bed when I reached it. I stared at the ceiling and rubbed my calloused hands; one tends to forget about dainty beauty when providing for a family. Our father had died 7 years ago- the victim of a horrible sickness. His last days were spent writhing in pain- something a 9 and 11 year old were too young to witness.

Getting the brown boxes with our names on them every year just reminded me of him. Now that Ginny was 16, she would recieve one, too. It would be my second year to attend- since I was 18- but it wasn't likely for me to get picked anyway.

"Hermione! Hermione!" Ginny came running into the house, her long red hair rolling onto her shoulders and the bottom of her dress splattered with dirt. She was looking incredibly expectant- as if the Lord himself was supposed to be sitting in this room. "Have them come yet?"

"Have what come yet?" I asked, still fingering the box that was hidden under my hands.

"The boxes, of course! I finally get one now!" She jumped up and down again.

"Mother has-"

Before I was able to finish my sentence, Ginny burst out of the room, screaming our mother's name. She was back within seconds, panting and gasping for breath with a small wooden box in her hands.

"It is here! I have it!" She clapped as she sat on the floor beside my bed. "Can I open it?"

"You can do what you want with it, Ginny," I sighed, taking my own box out. "It's yours."

She undid the clasp of the cheap, wooden box and tore out the note inside. In the bottom of the box lay 2 rosy pink pearls, each of them reflecting her beautiful face like water.

"Thos were grandmother's," I said softly, closing the lid of her box. "I recieved a piece of silk from her wedding dress the first time I got my box. You can only wear what is inside on the day of the meeting."

"Of course," Ginny nodded, opening the note. She gave it to me with shaky hands. "Please read it to me, Mia. I do not think I can."

I sighed and nodded, folding open the letter. I did not need my own, for it said the exact same thing.

"_Ginerva Jane Granger, we are pleased to announce that you are now eligible to attend the annual meeting at the cherry blossom orchards. As you may have heard, all girls through the ages of 16 to 30 are required to attend. It is traditon that once a boy comes of age, he choose a suitable wife to keep his family line alive. You may or may not be chosen. _

_If you are, you will be instructed further at the scene. You will return every year until you have been chosen, or have succeeded the age limit. As usual, the meeting will be held on the last day of July in the cherry blossom orchards. __Congratulations on this momentous event. We wish you the best of luck. Sincerely, __King Lupin, lord of the Kingdom of Azkabar, and the Royal Family_."

"Good Heavens!" Ginny screamed. "A letter from the king himself?"

"They are all the same, Ginny. Just with different names inserted at the beginning."

"Oh."

We sat nervously for a small amount of time, fiddling with our hair and glancing around the room. Ginny looked so much like our father when she twiddled her thumbs like that. Her flaming red hair was proof that she was our father's daughter, while I took on the chocolate brown hair of our mother. We looked the same besides our hair, teeth and height. Our personality was that of our mother's: Strong, independent, driven and intelligent. The only problem was that we were known to get too carried away sometimes.

"Would you tell me about it?" Ginny asked timidly, scooting on the floor until her back was leaning against my knees. "What is it like, Hermione?"

"Well..." I said, taking her hair and beginning to braid it. "It is very tiresome. We stand in different lines the entire day, waiting to be told whether or not we may stay or leave. We wear the best dresses we have and try to get the mens' attention, so as to try and become their wives. Although the poorer ones like us are often never picked... It does not hurt to try."

Ginny frowned. "I am rethinking this, Hermione. I don't know how to take of a home, a family, or a husband!"

"Ginny, you've been helping me around this house since you were a little girl. You are friends with virtually every person you meet. Babies are a lot to handle and require some learning, but you have instincts when it comes to that. You'll know when you're in that situation." I replied, patting her head after I had finished weaving it into a tight french braid.

Ginny did not reply. She tightened her grip on the box and stood straight up, thanking me and running off to finish her chores. She had been excited for weeks about the day she would recieve her box... only to be frightened when it happened. I felt sorry for her. Although the odds of us both getting picked were slim to none, it was still terrifying to stand there every year with dozens of richer, prettier girls beside you.

"Ginerva?" I heard mother call.

"Yes, mother?"

"Please come into your room; I would like to talk to you and your sister for a moment."

Ginny shuffled back into the room, her braid flopping back and forth as she sat down next to me on my bed. I held her hand like we always did when mother came to talk to us, for it was almost always serious.

"Girls," Mother started, walking into the room and shutting the door, sitting on the lone chair across from us. "I wish to speak about the upcoming meeting at the cherry blossom orchards."

"What of it?" I asked her.

"Ginerva, since it is your first time attending, you do not know what is expected of you, nor why you have to go. Hermione, this is your third, but I have neglected to tell you the history. So it will be your first time hearing this, too." Mother explained.

"Alright," Ginny breathed out, nodding her head.

"Ever since we can remember, it has always been this way. Women are to act with grace and maturity, and much is expected of you. Once married, you are now responsible for the cleaning and upkeep of your home, to care for your husband's needs, raise the children that come out of the marriage, and to be at your husband's side when he calls for you." She said. "Women like us do not have a say in many things. Your husband can punish you if he wishes, for you are legally his property."

"How can a human being be property, mother?" Ginny gasped.

"Those were the _'rules'_ passed down from generation to generation. A man may have more than one wife, but it is frowned upon in this day and age. As you remember, you were taken out of school at 13 to learn how to take care of your responsibilites. Men are told of all that their wives must do, so they expect nothing less. Always address a man as _'sir'_ unless they tell you otherwise. Women are to be seen and not heard; do not overstep your boundaries."

"What if my husband were to do something that was completely against my beliefs?" I asked this time.

"Then you will be mature and support your husband's decision," She replied. "Wives can be given and taken away; you must remember to be respectful. But as a wife, you are legally allowed to demand things of him. He is required to work and provide for you and any children you may have, and to see that you are healthy. If he fails in any of that, you will be sent back home to me and attend another meeting." She sighed, getting up and taking both of our hands. "You won't have any choice in what happens to you, I am afraid. But whatever does happen, I want you to rememeber who you are. Do not let anyone change who you are inside, even if you have to keep quiet about it."

"Never!" I exclaimed, bringing my mother into a tight hug. "I will never forget who I am, mother! I swear it."

"I do, too." Ginny said determinedly. She, too, joined in on the hug. "I'll always be Ginerva... yours and Papa's daughter."

My mother sighed, wiping a stray tear.

"Mother?" I asked.

"Yes?" She said as she was just about to leave the room.

"Will you... will you tell us about your meeting? About the time Papa picked you?" I said, hoping she would.

Ever since Papa had died and Mother struggled to provide for her children- let alone herself- she did not like to talk about her late husband. None the less, she sat down next to us and began to speak.

"I was 15. My birthday was the following day, but I was allowed to attend," She then smiled. "I remember that two men had both wanted me. Your father... and your father's brother. They fought over me until someone came over and broke them apart. Your father was so _calm_... so _collected_... and I was so drawn to him. They settled it in the only way they knew how."

"They didn't..." Ginny's voice faded away.

"They did. A man came over and judged the fight, only calling for a winner when he saw blood," She shivered. "It was terrible for me to watch. I was very young; I didn't know why they had both wanted me. Then the fight was over, and your father was standing above his only brother, having just cut off his right index finger."

"So that is why Uncle David has four fingers on his right hand?" I mused.

"Precisely." Mother nodded. "Your father was kind to me. He never hit me, nor demanded things of me. I took care of him, he took care of me. We were one of the lucky ones... for we loved each other dearly. Then you two were born... and your father passed away." She took a deep breath. "I know I will see him again when I leave this earth, but it is still very hard to be here every day without him. I seem him in you girls, actually."

She reached over and touched Ginny's hair, then my nose.

"Ginerva, your hair is exactly the same color as your father's. You have my eyes, but your father's everything else." She smiled, then looked at me. "And you, Hermione. I see your fathers dark brown eyes copied perfectly into your face; I would know them anywhere. You look so much like me, only you've taken on your grandmother's love of learning. And the texture of her hair."

I laughed at that. There was a personal joke within the family about my hair, for it was long, bushy and frizzy. I always had to tuck it into some sort of hankerchief, so I would not look like an over-groomed dog.

"Thank you, Mama,"I whispered. I had not called her _'Mama'_ since the day Papa had died, so hearing it made her happy beyond measure.

"I love you both," She said to us both, squeezing our hands. "So very much."

The weeks leading up to the meeting were filled with chores and preperations, until finally, it was the night before and we were to begin the journey to the orchards, along with the other girls from our small town.

We both stood in the best, cleanest dresses we had, our hair tied in braids on the backs of our heads as mother fixed the gifts to us. Ginny's pearls were pinned onto the middle of her dress, completing it perfectly. My piece of pure white silk was tied around my neck, an elegant bow on the back.

"You two look beautiful," Our mother said, tears brimming her eyes. She grabbed us both into tight hugs before pushing us out the door. "Good luck, my beautiful girls. Your father would be proud."

"I love you, mother," Ginny waved.

"I love you also," I waved too.

All she could do was nod and hold back tears as she watched us climb into the large carriage. We drove away and watched as our small, beaten down shack of a home faded into the distance.

"Hello," The girl sitting beside Ginny said. Besides us, there were four other girls from our town here. "My name is Luna Lovegood."

"Hello Luna," Ginny smiled back. "My name is Ginerva Granger, but you may call me Ginny. This is my sister, Hermione."

I waved but otherwise said nothing.

"Yes yes, that is very interesting," A girl sitting toward the back said, then stuck her hand out in front of me. "I am Pansy Parkinson, daughter of the famous Lady Parkinson and her husband, Dr. Parkinson."

Ah, I remembered this girl. This would be her third year, as it was mine. She was known for being pretentious and snobby, just because her mother had given birth to the first set of live triplets in the history of the Kingdom of Azkabar. Her family had recieved a great amount of money for it, something that made Pansy greedy.

"Nevermind her, Hermione. You must remember me?" A familiar voice called form beside Pansy.

"Cho! It is wonderful to see you again!" I smiled at the girl.

"It is," She nodded. "Forgive Hannah, she's just a bit shy. This is Hannah Abbott, my best friend."

"Hello," She said timidly.

The Abbotts were famous because Alexandra Abbott, Hannah's mother, had discovered a vaccine for chicken pox. It was now being made in every kingdom I knew the name of, yet the Abbotts preferred to save their money and live in their small house, instead of wasting it away.

"It's nice to meet you all," I smiled, relaxing us all into comfortable silence.

The drive to the orchards had taken longer than I thought. We arrived at noon the next day, stretching our legs and groaning as we filed out of the carriage. We each said goodbye and reluctantly split up, finding our lines according to last name. There were about 100 girls here.

"It's alright, Ginny," I whispered as I saw her begin to shake as the first of the men came out onto the fields. "Just be calm."

There were 40 men this year, all of which seemed no older than 25. They looked around with a critical eye and had women behind them, holding parchment and quills.

The first hour was all about looks. The men passed over the girls they did not find physically appealing, and added names down to a piece of paper of the ones they wanted to look through. They were allowed to touch our faces and necks, but were not permitted to go any lower. I had a red-haired man kiss me on the lips, making _me_ red with embarrassment. He winked and moved on, telling the woman behind him to add my name to his list. After a few more men came to look at me, until they all headed back to the end of the field and waited for the official to call out the names of who were to stay. He cleared his throat and spoke as loud as he could.

"Abbott, Hannah."

"Brown, Lavender."

"Chang, Cho."

"Lovegood, Luna."

About 80 other girl's names were called, until they finally reached the end of the list.

"Parkinson, Pansy."

"Granger, Hermione."

"Granger, Ginerva."

We both let out a breath we were not aware we were holding, clasping hands and walking towards the new lines. Now, it was all about the personal information we'd given them. Whether or not miscarriages, stillbirths and early death ran in our families- thankfully, it did not in the Granger line- and when we had started our menstral cycles- things like that. Based off of that list, each male narrowed their lists down to two girls. The rest had to leave.

We got into lines according to the suitor that wanted us; I was standing behind a black haired girl with pale gray eyes. She was short and looked unbelieveably sad. We stood for another minute as the suitor walked around us, assessing us one last time.

The suitor that wanted either me or the dark-haired girl was a tall, slim, muscular blond with a seemingly permanent scowl on his face. He seemed to notice our every movement, making me feel inferior just with his eyes. There was something about his eyes, though. They were a brilliant shade of silver that seemed to draw me in; that was what scared me the most. I had seen him at the last meeting- I believe he'd taken with him a girl named Astoria- which made me wonder why he was back.

I saw Ginny's potential suitor smile at her, his thick, rounded glasses framing his eyes and his black hair hanging around his head in uncontrollable spikes. He looked kind and sweet; he was perfect for my sister.

When all of the suitors had chosen, the official stood on a pedestal above us and read the names of the men and their choices. We were to immediately follow them toward their carriage, where we would make our way to the Royal Castle to be married.

_It was that quick._

The man coughed and began to read the names.

"Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood."

"Ronald Weasley, Lavender Brown."

"Cedric Diggory, Cho Chang."

"Oliver Wood, Hannah Abbott."

"Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson."

"Harry Potter, Ginerva Granger."

"Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger."

"Dean Thomas..."

I stopped paying attention after mine and Ginny's names were called. Dear lord... I had been picked. I had been chosen to become someone's wife. To leave my mother and sister and become a mother myself. The tears started to flow from my eyes as I walked toward the blonde man that stood next to Ginny's suitor. Ginny had just reached her suitor, a smile on his face.

"Good afternoon, Miss Granger," The blond said, sticking his hand out to grab mine and plant a small kiss on the back. "I am Draco Malfoy, head of the Malfoy family. You may address me as Mr. Malfoy, seeing as we are not married yet."

I could hear the underlying tone of disgust in his voice, which pained me to no end. The way he put his lips on my hand... it was almost as if he were being forced.

"Good afternoon," I offered as response.

"Ah, Miss Granger," Ginny's suitor said, kissing her hand, also. "My name is Harry Potter, but you may call me Harry. I can't help but notice how beautiful you are."

"Thank you, sir," Ginny said politely, smiling.

"Shall we go?" Harry asked her.

"Yes," Ginny replied, taking his arms and letting him lead her to his carriage.

"We must be going, Hermione," Draco said to me, grabbing my arm and lacing in through his. "We can not be late for our... _wedding_."

"Yes, Sir," I nodded, walking with him.

We did not speak during the short ride to the castle, for I was hurt by the way he spoke to me. Why was there so much disgust? Did he detest the idea of marriage? If so, why had he come to the meeting, let alone chosen me as his wife?

I did not have time to answer myself, for we had arrived at the castle. He had pulled me out of the carriage as fast as he pulled me in, practically dragging me through the halls and into the grand foyer of the castle. This was where the King gave speeches and things of that matter. I did not have time to marvel at the room before a man stood in front us, a paper and two quills in his hand.

"Do you consent to entering into a martial relationship with Mr. Draco Lucius Malfoy?" The man asked me.

"Yes," I responded, half-heartedly. Draco then put a single gold ring on my finger, _'Malfoy'_ etched on the front.

"Put your name here. Your old name." He clarified, handing me the quill. I signed and waited for him to turn to Draco.

"Do you consent to entering into a marital relationship with Miss Hermione Jean Granger?" He asked, handing him the quill.

"Yes," He took the quill and signed it, then handed me a masculine looking gold ring. I slipped it onto his finger and waited patiently beside him.

"By the power vested in me, by King Lupin himself, I know prounce you man and wife," He commanded, handing us the paper. "Best be on your way, then."

In some cultures, I had heard that marriages were sealed with a kiss. It seemed very strange to me, how the touching of lips was the beginning to a life long commitment. In our kingdom, we need only sign a piece of parchment for the commitment to be final. The only way to break it was through adultery or death.

_I wonder what happened to Draco's first wife._

"Come," Draco commanded.

I skittered over to him, following behind as we walked into the grand foyer again, standing next to Harry and Ginny, who had just gotten their rings.

"Hermione," Ginny whispered, her voice breaking.

"Ginny," I replied, grabbing her hand and making sure the men did not see.

"I'm scared," Ginny silently cried. "Harry seems nice... but I don't know what I'm going to do without you and mo-"

"Shh," I cooed. "It will be alright, Ginny. You will be alright. We will see each other again when Mother comes to visit."

"But that won't be for another month," Ginny sniffed.

"I know, dear, I know," I comforted her, dropping my voice lower when a girl caught part of our conversation. "If anything goes wrong, or if something happens, we will meet each other underneath the lone cherry blossom tree on the seventh hill."

"But how do I know you will be there?"

"I will be there, Gin. I will know," I touched her face one more time before Draco turned around and pulled me to his side, whispering harshly into my ear.

"Do not embarrass me with your games, foolish girl," He gritted through his teeth, making me wince. "If you cannot keep quiet for two minutes, you will be punished."

In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to yell that I was person, that I had the right to do whatever I pleased. But if I were to do that, he could punish me- he could even kill me- and no one could do anything to stop it. I was his, so no one but the King himself could order him to stop.

"Yes, Sir," I gulped, my manners kicking in. Of course, all of the girls called the men _'sir'_- whether or not they were their husbands- but I called him that out of pure fear.

"Good," He replied, letting go of my arm. "Say goodbye to your sister. After the King speaks, we will leave for Malfoy Manor."

As I hugged Ginny, it suddenly hit me that I had become someone else. I had to change for my husband, not of my own free will. But I would not change who I was on the inside.

King Lupin had come with his very pregnant wife, Queen Nymphadora, to bless our marriages, his oldest son in his arms. He spoke of honesty, intimacy, and love, all of which I was unfamiliar with. When he finished, he told us all that he expected us at the customary first ball on the anniversary of our weddings. It was to be held exactly one year from now, same as always.

I had followed Draco- without being told- out to his carriage, where he helped me inside and did not speak to me on the way to the Manor. The way he looked at me... the way he spoke to me... it made me want to cry and scream and ask him if I had done something wrong. I wanted to please my husband in any way possible, and so far, it looked like I was failing.

We drove the rest of the way in silence, giving me time to think.

The whole meeting thing... it was completely barbaric. It gave females no choice in what happened to them; they could be stuck with an abusive man who just wanted them for sex, and they could have done nothing to prevent it. If- Heaven forbid- a woman was to die by the hands of her husband, there would be practically no concequences for him unless he was caught in the act.

Now I was one of those girls that did not have a choice. I did not know a single thing about the man that had become my husband. I was expected to open my legs to him and bear his children- yet I had just met him hours ago. Was not that _wrong?_

What made men more deserving of choices than women? We contributed just as much to the marriage- we grow humans inside of us for pete's sake. We take care of our families, feed them, and support our husbands and children, not having any other choice. Of course, I would care for any child that I bore, but I would have liked to have a choice as to who the father of said child was. Just because a woman's body was not as muscled as a man's, and because we could bear children, meant we had no choice in anything. In the entire kingdom, the only women with any kind of authority were in the royal family- which only included Queen Nymphadora as of right now.

So women were to be chosen like farm animals at a market, then forced to comply with their owners. We were all human, so what made females unable to make decisions regarding our futures? I wanted very badly to change this, but I knew there was nothing I could do about it now. I would most likely die trying.

I was brought out of my thoughts when we pulled up to a gray, dreary-looking manor, dead flowers around the gates and servants milling around the front.

"Your things will arrive tomorrow," Draco said gruffly as we jolted to a stop. "This is your home now."

With those five words, it occurred to me that this was who I was to be now.

Hermione Granger- a strong, independent woman- was now hidden away, never to see sunlight again. I was Hermione Malfoy, now. Wife to the head of a prominent family in the Kingdom of Azkabar, future mother to the heirs of that family, and above all, it looked as if I was hated in the eyes of my own husband.

That was the year the cherry blossoms died.

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**A/N:** _I can understand how you'd be confused, but all will be explained in later chapters. Again, there is no time line here. It's that way for a reason. In this world, women did not have a choice. They were simply mothers and wives. Don't worry, though, Hermione will try to change that. Review? I'd love to know whose on board. It only takes a few seconds. Next chapter should be up in a few days. **-Nikki a.k.a.- Twipotterfreak28**_

**P.S.-** _There will be mentions of God in this story, but it won't be overly religious. There is no time line for this story, and no specific place. It could be in Britain, or America, or Russia... no one knows. It takes place in a kingdom somewhere, at some time or another. But I promise you, it'll be worth the confusion. So who's with me?_


	2. Explained

_Hola, folks. I'm learning Spanish, so... yes. Enjoy, amigos (or amigas)._

_Disclaimer: Same as chapter one._

_This story is** unbeta'ed**._

**(Hermione pov)**

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_Each of us has his own rhythm of suffering._

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"Do not waste my time by staring, girl." Draco snapped, already outside the carriage, standing with a scowl on his face.

"My apologies," I murmured, taking his hand as I carefully stepped out of the carriage. He then let go and walked toward the manor, a small girl in a plain blue dress following after us.

I struggled to keep up with him, but remained close none-the-less. Malfoy Manor was a dark and dreary place- gray and black and brown everywhere- that made me want to leave at once. I did not want to stay in this place under any circumstances, but I did not have a choice right now. My choices were taken away, only to be given back if my husband chose to let me have them.

"The servant's quarters are located on the edge of the property," Draco spoke up, opening the front door and leading me into the large house. "The kitchen is the last room on this floor; Lily will show you where it is. You will cook when it is just us. I expect my meals at 7, 12 and 6 o'clock, no later. You will tell the servants what to do daily; if they cannot complete it, you will. Our room is on the next floor up- the last door on the right."

"Yes sir," I replied, still overwhelmed by the richness of the house- mansion.

"Lily," Draco said, his tone commanding. The girl following us skittered up to stand in front of Draco, her head bowed.

"Yes, Master Malfoy?" She said, sounding frightened.

"Leave us at once," He dead-panned. "Go ask Minerva what you can do for her."

"Right away, Master Malfoy," She squeaked, running off to the outside.

"Follow me, Hermione."

I followed him wordlessly as he wrung his hands together and led me upstairs. The sun was in the middle of the sky, so I assumed it was around noon- he would be hungry soon. We walked for what seemed like miles until he stopped in front of a large, green door with carvings around the side. He took a deep breath and pushed it open, grabbing my hand and leading me inside.

"This is where we will sleep," He gestured to the large bed in the middle of the room. He then sat me down on the bed and knelt in front of me. "I assume you think me to be an unkind man."

"I do not make assumptions about those I do not know," I whispered to him, distracted by the fact that he was holding one of my hands.

"I would like for you to know me," He said softly. "But I have a reputation to uphold. I will not allow you to defy me whilst we are in public, nor will I stand for insubordination. I will punish you, yes, but I do not want you to be afraid of me."

"Sir-"

"Do not call me sir," He sighed. "Whilst we are in the Manor, I am Draco. You will call me sir in the presence of others."

"Yes s- Draco," I corrected myself.

"In this room, you may speak your mind," He stood up and put his hands in his pocket. "If something bothers you, you can tell me here. If you want something, or if you just wish to ask me a question, this is where you will do it. This is a safe place, Hermione. Nothing you say can count against you."

"May I ask a question, then?" I asked politely.

"Yes."

"I saw you at the orchards last year," I said slowly. "what happened to your previous wife?"

Draco's hands clenched and his nostrils flared in anger. He turned his head for a second before looking back at me, rage and grief in his eyes. "You are _never_ to speak of her, do you understand me?"

"I- I didn't mean-"

"Do you understand?" He repeated, louder this time.

"Yes, sir," I said quickly, hanging my head.

Finally, finally when he had begun to show me his true self, I had to ruin it. I should never have asked him that question- the answer was obvious. He had either given her back to her parents, or... she died somehow. It was not my place to know.

"Go to the kitchens," Draco suddenly said, having walked across the room. "It is almost noon."

I nodded and walked out of the room, tears falling down my cheeks as I did so. How could I have messed up this badly? It was my first day as his wife, and I had already managed to make him genuinely yell at me. He'd sent me away when I asked a question- would he send me back to my mother if I accidentally went too far, without even knowing it?

"Lady Malfoy," I saw and elderly woman standing in the kitchen, getting pots and pans out from a cupboard. "My name is Minerva; I cook and tend to the gardens here. I assume you are here to- my dear girl, are you alright?"

She looked up from the vegetables she was chopping and saw my tear-streaked face, putting down the knife, walking over to me, and grabbing my hand. She then wiped the tears from my cheeks.

"I am fine," I sniffed, nodding my head as if to convince myself.

"If you say so," She smiled at me, patting my cheeks. "Chin up, chest out."

I nodded, following her into the kitchens.

"Have you any experience in cooking?" She asked, going right back to chopping.

"Yes," I said, standing there awkwardly. "I made all of the meals back home; I also had to gather the ingredients and harvest them myself."

"Ah, Finally! Someone that knows their way around a kitchen!" Minerva exclaimed, clapping her hands with glee. She then handed me the knife and gestured to the pots. "Draco likes his wife to cooks his meals- says they are better that way. I will be right here if you need any help."

She took a step back and sat down on one of the bar stools, groaning as she did so. She looked to be around sixty years old- past the time of housework. I wondered why she was here. She called Draco by his first name, so she must have some personal connection to him.

I shook my head and went about chopping vegetables, shoving all of the thoughts of disappointment and failure into a drawl inside my mind, then locking it tight and throwing away the key. I lost myself in the cooking. The smell of freshly cut cucumbers and the feel of ripe tomatoes on my hands reminded me of home, when I didn't have much to cook and we all ate together.

_I miss my mother and sister._

"Careful," Minerva piped up.

I was cutting up a piece of meat she gave me- some sort of bird, I'd imagine- and came close to cutting off the tip of my finger. I mumbled a 'thank you' and went back to my cooking, throwing everything into one of the hard clay pots on the counter. When all of the ingredients were in the pot, I picked it up and went to put it on top of the stones that were usually in every kitchen- only to find myself staring at a metal box with raised edges and a several nobs, sitting where the stones would normally be.

"Er... where is...?" I set the pot down and gestured to the strange metal.

"Oh, I am sorry! This must be confusing!" Minerva laughed, standing up and walking over to me. "This is one of Draco's own inventions! You see, the stones that held the fire that would normally cook the food were getting very old and odorous. Plus, the hole in the ceiling that the smoke went through was peeling and rain would get inside. So... Draco made this to keep the fire going continuously without the need for wood or coal. We still bake bread and things like that outside, but we can make soup here."

"I still do not understand," I said confusedly. There weren't many things that puzzled me.

"You see, if you turn this nob and push it in, small drips of gas start to flow inside of it. Then you just light a fire like you would in a stone pit. As long as the nob is pushed in, the fire will remain lit without the smoke that comes with coal!" She said with glee. "Out of all of the children I've had, Draco is one of my favorite."

_The children she had?_

"Uh...?"

"Oh, no! No, I am not Draco's mother." She laughed. "I have taken care of him since he was but a child. His mother... well, his mother ... was not _around_, so Malfoy Sr. hired me to take care of the boy. I taught him everything he knows. He was a very inventive child, but sort of rude and hateful towards others. Of course, he was my sweet boy inside, but he just never connected well with others."

"Oh," I nodded, now overcome with questions.

"It is Draco's story to tell," She patted me on the shoulder. She then pushed the nob and... whatever else it was... to light the fire. "Here, I will take that. I have sent Lily to lay out a new set of clothes for you. They are in the powder room- the first door on the right. After you are finished, go and get Draco. The stew should be finished by then."

Minerva took the pot from me and set it over the fire, practically pushing me out the door of the kitchen. I laughed as she did so, loving the way she genuinely cared about things. I was soon dressed in a very comfortable blue dress, my hair tied back into a tight ponytail. I walked up the stairs very slowly, running into a small, dark-skinned girl on the way.

"Master Malfoy is in his study," She said quietly, running away before I could thank her.

I did not like the idea of servants. With a house as big as his, he would need some help, but servitude has never set well with me. I resolved that I would talk to Draco about it when he was in a better mood- or when I held a better place in his heart.

"Draco?" I called softly, pushing open a door at the end of the hall.

"What is it?" Draco said, not taking his eyes off of the book in his hands.

"Lunch is ready," I hung my head and waited for his reply, only to feel his hand of my chin, pushing upward until I met his gaze.

"I am sorry for yelling at you earlier," He whispered. "but I do not_ ever_ want to speak of Astoria. It is too painful."

I nodded, almost smiling when he pressed a light kiss to my forehead. He then walked out of the room, purpose in his strides. I followed after him, numb to everything I should have been feeling.

It had been but an hour since I had been brought here, and I was already feeling at home. There were so many foreign rooms and empty hallways that I had yet to venture into, but it felt like it was already mine. Like... there was a purpose for my being here.

I remembered when I was a small girl- just ten years old- holding onto my father's neck as he brought me to bed. I longed to be a big girl, so he could take me places and I could see things. I begged him to tell me something that would make me older, or at least something to hold on to in the years to come. Walking through the halls of my new home, I was reminded of the most profound thing I had ever been told.

_"Hermione," My father laughed, detaching me from his neck and placing me in the bed, right next to a sleeping Ginny. "It is time to go to bed, sweetheart."_

_"Will you tell me something smart, Papa?" I asked, trying to be quiet so as not to wake Ginny. "Mama said that girls my age should act like children, but I want to be an adult, like you."_

_"You are quickly becoming a fine young woman," He laughed, hugging my small body. "and I would hate for you to grow up too quickly, but if you so desire, I will tell you something smart."_

_I smiled anxiously, waiting._

_"When I was very small, close to your age, my mother told me something that I don't think I'll ever forget." He smiled, obviously thinking of grandmother. "She said to me, There are two important days in your life: the day you born, and the day you find out why."_

I had yet to find out why I was on this earth, but I had a feeling it had something to do with my current status as Lady Malfoy.

I found the kitchen once again, entering to see Minerva patting Draco on the head and smiling at him. He rolled his eyes and took the bowl of stew on the table, sitting on one of the chairs and taking a spoon from underneath the cabinet.

His utensils were very... odd looking. They were pure silver and very smooth, so much unlike the ones I was accustomed to using. We had to use wooden spoons- jagged around the edges from carving them out of tree branches. The one Draco held in his hand must have been very expensive. It cost us a week of Father's pay just to buy two soup pots, made of thin and barely usable metal.

"Hermione," Draco spoke, bringing me out of my thoughts. "Sit down and eat. We have much to discuss after this."

"Alright," I nodded, serving myself some stew and sitting down next to him. "Draco... if I may ask... why are your utensils that color?"

He smiled, dropping his spoon in his bowl. "Are you _serious?_" He must have noticed my solemn expression for he wiped the smile off of his face. "Hermione, have you never seen a silver spoon before?"

"I grew up without much," I shrugged. "My father died when I was ten years old, but even before that we had only wooden spoons and thin, metal pots. After he died, there wasn't much money. I do not think I have ever heard of eating utensils being made of silver... the only silver I have ever seen are wedding bands."

Draco seemed to fall silent at what I said, his gaze falling to his bowl as he moved his spoon around, before finally pushing it away and grabbing my hand.

"I wish to show you something." He dragged me out of the chair and up to my feet, leading me away from the kitchen and towards a door with light pouring out of it.

"What-" I started, quieting myself. Draco led me through several patches of dead grass, giving me a proper look at the courtyard of this house. There were several bushes of dying flowers and leafless tress all around us, wooden benches scattered around. "Where are we going?"

"You will see," He said simply, still walking with my hand in his. We came to a locked door at the end of the courtyard, an inscription in Latin carved on it. "The inscription says, _A Dragon Born Among The Flowers_. This was my mother's favorite place... and the place where I was born."

I gasped as he opened the door. The space looked to be around 15 feet wide and 20 feet long, but even in such a small place... there was so much beauty.

There pinks, reds, blues, oranges... every color and then some. It looked completely out of place within the walls of the dark gray courtyard. Flowers lined the walls and a lone bench- deep burgandy wood and sharp black metal- stood in the center, pots of different plants scattered amog the flowers.

"What...?" I gasped, taking a deep breath and inhaling the scent of fressia and cherry blossom. I looked over to see Draco with his hands shoved in his pockets, looking very sad.

"Sit with me, please," He gestured to the bench, and I joined him on it. "You know... Astoria reacted much differently than you just did."

"Did she?" I asked cautiously.

"Yes," He smiled. "She laughed and began to smell every single flower. You are much more reserved than her."

I mouthed an _'O'_, afraid at what he was getting at. Would I ever amount to the woman he first married? Or... is he sad that I am different?

"Hermione, do not frown. There is nothing to frown about," Draco whispered, taking his thumbs and putting them on the corners of my mouths. "May I ask you a few questions?"

"Of course!" I nodded.

"Does my wealth make you uncomfortable?"

My eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "No. I am just not used to anything... _valuable_ inside of a home. I am more amazed by the variety of materials in your utensils than anything else."

He laughed and shook his head. "You are an odd one," He chuckled. "I am going to ask you this, and I want you to be honest with me. No lies."

"I would never lie," I shook my head. "It is not in my nature."

He nodded. "Hermione, are you a virgin?"

_That was a... very forward question._

"Yes," I said, more of a question than an answer.

"Have you ever ben touched by a man?"

"Sort of," I answered, automatically. "When I was 15, a man in my town wanted me to be his wife, before the meetings had even begun. While I was walking to pick up some bread from the baker, he came out and grabbed me."

"You don't have to tell me this," He said softly.

"You asked me, and now I will tell you," I breathed, pushing a few strands of hair out of my face. "He took me to his home and... _touched_ me, then tried to take off my dress. The man that lived next door came in and stopped him before he could hurt me... but the event has left me feeling unsettled."

"I am sorry that happened to you." He shook his head. "Have you ever been kissed?"

"I have never had a real kiss. I have been kissed by several suitors, but never kissed of my own accord."

"Would you let me kiss you?" He asked, leaning in towards me.

I wanted desperately to say _'I do not have a choice'_, but instead, I whispered a soft _'yes'_.

He leaned in and touched his lips to mine, applying very little pressure. His hands reached out and took hold on the sides of my face, my arms unconsiously slipping around his neck.

It was different. It was amazing, beautiful, and frightening at the same time, all centered in his lips and, now, mine. I could only describe the way he smelled as masculine, having no other word for it. His lips were soft and his hands were slightly calloused, but I found that I liked it that way. He tasted of the stew I made, and also of mint leaves and baking soda.

I didn't understand how he could be so many things, or how I could tell distinctly what he tasted like and felt, just with a single kiss.

Draco took his lips away from mine, his hands dropping to rest on my thighs. "That was..."

"It was," I breathed, feeling exactly like he did.

We sat for a moment, ctaching our breath. The silence was not suffocating, nor was it overbearing, but I sensed that Draco was trying to say something. Then, he did.

"I want you to know that I will take care of you," He whispered, taking my hands in his. "You will never have to worry as long as you are mine. You may do as you please, within reason, and I will do my best not to deny you of anything. I do not know the slightest thing about you, woman. I need you to tell me who you are. I need to know what you like to do, what makes you laugh, what makes you cry. You have to tell me."

"All you have to do is ask," I replied, sending him a small smile. "I want you to know that I am new to this. I know that you expect me to care for your house while you are gone; I am perfectly capable of that. But... I don't know how we are supposed to..."

"Have sex?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Yes," I said, my cheeks flaming in embarrassment. "I am aware of how the reproductive process works... but I haven't the slightest idea what you expect of me in that area."

"I do not _expect_ anything," Draco shrugged. "I am not ashamed of my body, Hermione. You should not be ashamed of yours. You are a very beautiful girl. When we reach that point, I will guide you through it. Whatever you are comfortable with is fine with me."

"I... I just want to get it out of the way," I said hurriedly. "I have heard many stories of how a woman's part of sex is painful, so I just want to get it over with."

"It doesn't _have_ to be painful. In fact, it is very pleasureable." He smiled. "We are not going to do that right now. When you are ready, we will. I won't have your first time ruined because of fear."

Defeated, I simply nodded and leaned against him. He held me against his chest, breathing in the scent of my hair. He then whispered something- something so quiet that I was almost positive he did not mean for me to hear.

"My mother would have liked you."

My heart ached for my husband. He'd lost his wife and his mother, and his father was no where to be seen. He had Minerva... and me. That was it.

As he held me, I could see a small cherry blossom tree in the corner of the room, twisting its branches around each other. I hugged Draco tighter just as a blossom fell off the edge of the tree and landed in a puddle of water on the ground. I could feel Draco started to shake and small droplets of water hitting my shoulder. He was crying.

I remained in the same position, letting him hold me as silent, small sobs wracked through his body.

That was moment I knew I would always stay with Draco Malfoy, choices be damned.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for reading. Hearing your opinions helps me improve, so leave me your thoughts:) -Nikki a.k.a.- Twipotterfreak28**


	3. Struck

_***Bangs head against table*** Here's the latin translations for this chapter:_

___Buon pomeriggio, bella. = Good afternoon, beautiful._

_Te quiero tambien. = I love you too._

_bello/bella = handsome/beautiful_

_bambino/bambina = baby boy/baby girl_

_**Disclaimer:** Like every other author on this site (assuming J.K. is not masquerading as one of us), I do not own Harry Potter._

**(Hermione pov)**

* * *

"Hermione," Draco cooed, shaking me slightly from our position in the bed. "Hermione, I have something to tell you."

"Alright," I said groggily, sitting up, gently pulling the covers underneath my arms.

"We are going to visit a few friends of mine today," He said to me as he got out of the bed, giving me a view of his shirtless form. "We will be leaving at noon; I expect you to be on your best behavior."

"Of course," I nodded. "May I ask where we are going? Is there something you would like me to wear?"

"Wear something nice- we will be going to the castle today." He walked out of the room.

The castle?

As in, the castle that housed the royal family?

"Oh lord," I mumbled, jumping out of the bed and running off to find Minerva or Lily.

It had been exactly one week since I became Hermione Jean Malfoy. Draco and I had many conversations about each other, what we expected from each other, and when things were going to happen. For instance, our physical relationship had progressed, but not to the state which I would have liked. We had kissed and touched and even slept together, but we had not been intimate yet.

Draco had yelled at me once for dropping a plate in the kitchen, but apologized directly after. He had not struck me like a feared he would; he hadn't forced me to do anything and I was glad for that. He was a very gentle man when we were alone. I had yet to be with him in the presense of someone besides the servants- something that still irked me- so I did not know what would transpire today. If it was anything like the day we were married... I had better get my act together.

"Wait!" I called as I saw the small, dark-skinned girl I saw on my first day. The girl stopped in her tracks and turned, fear in her eyes. "What is your name?"

"Dorea," She said shyly, not meeting my eyes. She flinched when I put my hand on her shoulder.

"That is a pretty name. My name is Hermione," She started to shake her head. "But you can call me Lady Malfoy, if it makes you more comfortable."

"Thank you, Lady Malfoy," Her voice shook.

"Do you know where I might find Minerva or Lily?"

"Miss Minerva was in the kitchens the last time I saw her," Dorea responded. "And Lily has been sent to the castle."

I nodded, but caught her arm before she could run off. "How old are you, Dorea?"

"14."

"Why are you here?" It sounded like a very blunt question to ask.

"My mother died in childbirth and my father was a drunk," I could hear her starting to cry. "He ran out of money so he sold me for gold to a very unkind man."

"That's terrible!" My heart hurt from hearing it.

"Master Malfoy found him hitting me last year, so he bought me from the evil man and told me that he would make sure I was taken and care of, but I had to help clean his house and treat him with respect," She began to back up slowly. "I am very grateful for what he has done for me, and I need to get back to my chores. Excuse me."

She ran off and wiped her eyes as she went, making me frown. I wanted to do something about this. I wanted to make sure that never happened to any other girl again- we had no rights so we could not even oppose to being sold like a piece of meat. I did not hold it against Draco for buying her, since he practically saved her from a terrible life, but it was still wrong. There were plenty of couples who were unable to concieve that would have loved to have Dorea.

"Dorea said you were looking for me," Minerva tapped me on the shoulder. "Hermione, are you alright? You look sad."

"I... I am fine," I assured her. "Draco wants to go to the castle; could you help me pick an appropriate dress to wear?"

"Of course, dearie," She patted my shoulder and led me back into mine and Draco's room. "Now, why are you sad?"

"I was just thinking about the women of this kingdom," I spoke softly as she began pulling dresses out of the closet. "Does not it seem wrong that we do not have any rights or say in our futures? I mean, Draco is a good man and I am happy to have him over others, but shouldn't we at least get a say?"

"Have you heard the story of Amelia Bones?" She asked, moving on to the drawers.

"No."

"Well, a few years ago, when Draco was a child, there was a woman, named Amelia, married to a high official in the King's court," Minerva said. "They were both fine people, but they did not belong together; he loved her sister and she was in love with a servant. He did not try to end the marriage because he would then be looked down on by his family, so she did something about it. For months, she petitioned the court, saying that she wanted a divorce so she could marry the servant. Each and every time she was denied. Finally, after a year, she stormed into the meeting hall where the King's court was gathered."

"But that's illegal!" I gasped.

"It is. Amelia hoped that they would have mercy on her, so she could finally speak with the King face to face," Minerva sighed, picking up a long red dress and holding it out to me. "The punishment for a woman who disrupts something like that is death, and only the King himself could overturn it. Only the King was not there that day. They took Amelia outside in front of the people, and used her as an example for what would happen if the women stepped out of line. She was beheaded in the town square, and her daughter, Susan, was left to be raised by her father and his new bride."

"That's horrible!" I cried, clutching the dress in my hands.

"That is why I think it best that you keep quiet. Draco simply could not bare it if you were to be killed- he has already lost one wife, and I feel that you are his saving grace. In the future, someone will change the laws and women will have rights, but not now. People are too afraid of change to let it happen."

I frowned. "Well, why not now? You can not just wait for someone to change the rules for you; change requires action. If not now, if not me, who? When?"

"Hermione, I implore you to see reason. If you understood what would happen if you died, you would not even think to say this. Think of Draco. Think of what he has lost and what he has gained. Do not you think it cruel to gamble your own life when he has lost so much already?"

I shushed myself at that. She was right. I was Draco's wife and I could not risk my own life, for it now belonged to Draco, just like his belonged to me. They were so many mysteries surrounding the blond and I intended to find them out or have him tell me. Draco may have been strong on the outside, but he was fragile on the inside. He needed things he was too prideful to ask for. I hoped he would trust me enough to tell me.

"Chin up," Minerva tapped my chin and smiled at me. "No more talk of death and revolutions. You have got to look pretty for the outing, and a frown does not become you." I smiled up at her. "There. Now, I think red would look beautiful on you."

An hour later, I was dressed in a fitted, floor length red dress made of a slick, shiny material that I had never worn before. Minerva had laughed and said, "Silk." My hair was fone up in curls by Dorea, and a small, snowflake-shaped necklace was placed around my neck.

"It was his mother's," Minerva smiled as she fastened the chain. "He has asked me to give it to you."

"I- I can not accept it," I said quickly, rubbing the snowflake that hung on my chest. "It was his mother's; not mine."

"You are the only Malfoy woman now, Hermione. It is yours."

I saw no point in arguing further with her, so I nodded and let well enough alone. After I finished dressing, I went to go get Draco's clothes, finding a few suits inside his closet. I picked out a pair of plain black trousers, an emerald green shirt, and a plain black jacket to match. After ironing his shirt, I found him in his study, scratching along a piece of parchment with his quill.

"Draco?" I called. He looked up and his eyes widened.

"You look beautiful," He sighed.

"Thank you," I blushed, playing with my hands. "Uh... I have laid out your clothes for you; it is almost time to leave."

"Right, I almost forgot," He got up, revealing that he was still wearing nothing but his undergarments. I tried not to stare as he made his toward me, and eventually, cupped my face in his hands. "You didn't have to do that, you know."

"I think I did," I nodded, taking his hands off of my face and lightly pushing him towards our room.

I wasn't really sure what I meant by that. Technically, I did have to lay out his clothes and wash them, but I also felt that I should do it. Not because I was legally obligated as his wife, but because I was helping him. There wasn't much I was allowed to do, so I did what I was allowed to the best of my abilities.

"You have good taste, woman." Draco smiled as he saw the clothes on the bed. "I was afraid I would look like a rainbow had Minerva and Dorea dressed me."

I smiled and went to go out of the room, before Draco stopped me by calling out my name.

"Yes?" I asked.

"Why are you leaving?" He asked as he put his hands on the waistband of his underwear. "It is not as if you will not see me naked. Could you hand me my socks?"

Before I could say anything... he dropped his underwear to the floor. He was now standing in front of me with no clothes on.

As in, naked as the day he was born.

I blushed and scurried to the other side of the room, blushing and trying not to look at his..._ private_ area. I tossed the socks to him and avoiding his direction, running back across thce room and clutching the door handle.

"I, er... I- I am going to go... see what Minerva is doing." Without waiting for a response, I bolted from the room.

Even though I tried not to look, I still caught a glimpse of his... er... private part. As I walked down the clean black stairs, blushing like a virgin girl on her wedding night, one single thought resided in my mind.

_How is that thing ever going to fit inside me?_

"Hermione?" Minerva looked up from the cooking she was doing in the kitchen. "Sit down, dear girl! You look ill!"

"May I ask you a question?" My voie shook.

"Of course."

"How... I mean, how does it... feel... to... be intimate?"

"Intercourse, you mean." She said, as if it were not the most embarrassing subject in the world.

"Er... yes," I said awkwardly.

"Hermione, I am fifty years old. Do you know how long it has been since I have been with a man?" I really, _really_ didn't want to guess. "My husband, Richard, died just after our only child was born. I do remember that it hurts for a moment- just a pinch. It is not the most comfortable thing in the world, but it gets better in time."

"Thank you," I let out the breath I was holding. "I didn't know you had a child."

"Ah, yes!" She said happily, clapping her hands. "My daughter, Helena, is such a sweetheart! Most polite girl you would ever meet, I swear. But when she turned fifteen and got married, I occupied my time by caring for other people's children, hence why Draco is practically mine. Helena has three kids of her own now; her oldest was actually married the same day you were, to an official at the castle. One day, though, Draco will not need me anymore and I will go to find another child who needs someone to take care of him."

"You can not leave!" I shouted suddenly. "I-I know I have only known you for a short amount of time, but you simply cannot leave me here- alone- with no one to talk to."

"That is what your husband is for."

"Yes, but I can not talk to him about certain things," I blushed again. Damn blush. "Plus, I will need someone to help me deliver children, and to teach me to care for them, and to help me remember things, and-"

"Hermione!" Minerva laughed. "You are panicing over nothing! I promise, I will not leave until you are well into your second pregnancy, at least. I love Draco as my own, but I will not leave him with a newly pregnant woman. He is a man, after all."

We ended up laughing and talking until Draco came down twenty minutes later, looking gorgeous in his clothes. I loved that he always seemed to smell like mint- it made kissing him an exhilarating feeling.

"What are you two talking about?" Draco smirked as he walked into the kitchen. "About how handsome I am, perhaps?"

"Oh, that reminds me!" Minerva smirked back at Draco. "When Draco was one, Hermione, a man came and sketched a picture of him for his baby memories. He had the cutest little bottom, I swear! Would you like to see it some time?"

"We are leaving, now!" Draco said hurriedly, grabbing my arm and dragging me out of the kitchen while Minerva laughed. Once we were outside and safely into the carriage, Draco sighed in relief. "That woman lives to embarrass me."

"I think it is very sweet," I giggled.

"Of course you would!" He scoffed, laughing along with me.

Our laughter eminated inside the carriage for a few seconds more, then slowly died down as we realized we had unconsciously scooted closer to each other. Draco, being the ever confident one, laid his hand over mine and put his other on my cheek.

"You are.." He sighed, as if looking for the right word. "Confusing."

"What makes you think that?" I asked.

"You are just so... beautiful," He chuckled, never removing his hands from their position. "And you seem to not know that. The last week that I have spent with you has been amazing. I have learned more about you, which makes me happy, but there is just so much about you that is mysterious. I would like to know the way in which you think, for it seems to be different than others. You are much kinder than most women, also."

"Why is this confusing to you?"

"You act as if you want me to bed you, then you act like a nervous, shy child in the next moment. It is just confusing, as you can see." Draco sighed, leaning in to give me a quick peck on the lips. "I regret that I must take you to see Vincent today, for I fear that your trust in me will waver once you see the way he is."

"He is your friend, Draco. I am sure it will be alright."I smiled at him.

"Just... know that I would never intentionally hurt you."

Draco's mood seemed to have taken a turn for the worst. I wondered just what this 'Vincent' was like, and why Draco was so hesitant to let me meet him.

The next two hours in the carriage were very quiet. Draco did not kiss me again- whcih I was partly dissmayed about- and he was silent most of the way. I was left to think about my life; when I ran out of life to go over, I thought of what I would make Draco for dinner tomorrow. Maybe a roast. Minerva had told me that Draco liked steamed carrots, so maybe I could throw a few of those in... yes! I could see it now! I could mash a few potatoes, pick some flowers, light a few candles...

When will we be intimate?

"Something wrong, Hermione?" Draco asked concernedly.

I realized my cheeks were flushed and my hands were shaking. "Oh! Er... no. Nothing is wrong. I am just... nervous."

"No need to be nervous." He gave me an encouraging smile. "You will be the prettiest one there. And I will be there- that is saying something."

His cockiness used to bother me, but after I ralized it was just another part of him, I got over my issue. I worried that he was actually being serious about that comment, but pushed the thought aside when the castle came into view.

"We'll be visiting another friend of mine first," Draco fought to keep a smile off of his face as he opened the door, stepped outside, and offered his hand to help me out of the carriage. "In fact, I believe he married your sister not too long ago."

"Ginny!" I smiled, practically jumping into Draco's arms. "You did not tell me that is who we were going to see!"

"I forgot, honestly." He said with fake innocence. "The men have much to discuss today, so you and Ginny will have chores to do. I suspected you would not object if you were with your sister."

"Of course not!" I smiled.

"That is what I thought." Draco took my hand and we bagn our walk to the castle gates. "If my father were still here-" Draco stopped his sentence and sighed. "Harry and I are the only known, living heirs to the Malfoy and Potter line, so it is required of us to attend the meetings."

"I am sorry," I hugged him. "About your parents, I mean."

"It is fine." He said gruffly, the leaning down to press a kiss to my forehead as the guards let us through. "Perhaps I will tell you the story one day."

We did not speak another word as we walked to the castle doors. They were opened for us by two strict-looking men. We walked through the castle- a place I had only seen once- and up the stairs, where Draco stopped us and kissed my hand.

"This is where we part ways," He sighed. "I will be in the meeting for a few hours, and then I will introduce you to my... friends. I assume your sister is currently in her room. Ask one of the servants and they will direct you where to go; I will be back for you soon."

"Yes... Mr. Malfoy," I said, practising the name I was to use in the company of others. It was for the man to decide when their wives could call them by their first names in front of others, and so far, Draco had not given me that permission.

"Good girl." He smiled. He then kissed my cheek and went off, leaving me standing at the top of the stairs.

"Okay..." I said to myself, turning around and beginning the search for my sister. "If I were a redhead, where would I be...?"

I walked down a few more hallways and opened a few doors (one of which led to a man showering- and he wasn't too easy on the eyes, either), none of which led to Ginny. I was just about to give up when I felt hands on my back. I tried to scream but a small, feminine hand clamped over my mouth while the other went around my arms, effectively incapacitating me. I was then dragged into a room and let go.

"What is the meaning of-" I started to scream and turned, only to be met by a pair of familiar chocolate brown eyes and a wide, toothy smile. "Ginny! What in God's name is wrong with you?"

"What? I was just trying to surprise you. You are far too uptight." She smirked.

"You could have given me a heart attack! I thought I was about to be kidnapped, or- or raped! God, Gin, don't ever do that to me again!" I yelled, clutching my chest.

"I- I am sorry..." She said sheepishly, hanging her head.

"I forgive you," I sighed, enjoying the way she perked up at that. "Now, get over here and hug me, you annoying girl."

We hugged each other fiercly, as if we hadn't seen each other in years. I stroked Ginny's hair like I used to do when we were children, and she laid her head on my chest in the same manner.

"So," Ginny pulled back and wiped her eyes, trying to not to tear up. "How is married life treating you? I know I have so many to tell you!"

"It has been... alright so far," I admitted. "When we are alone, he is a very kind man. He has been through a lot and has not told me much about himself yet, but I think he will soon. There isn't much to say, really. He is a very intelligent man and is used to getting everything he has wanted- something I fear could be his downfall. But, nothing has happened yet. I will write you if something happens."

"Great!" Ginny clapped, shoving me down on a chair while she talked. "Well, my Harry is a completely different story than your draco-"

"I don't think he is really_ my_ Draco yet-"

"Shush! Anyway, Harry is so... so... amazing! King Lupin is his second godfather, so when his parents were killed, he was sent to live here with the king. Harry is so kind and caring and smart and brave and... dear lord, I think I love him already! He treats me very well and has been with me every day- I am very grateful to have been picked by someone as caring and _handsome_ as him. I know for a fact that Parkinson's husband is a complete slob. I bet she is having a grand time with him."

"When did you turn into such a gossip?" I smiled.

"I am not a gossip, Hermione! I simply hear what I hear and tell whoever will listen about it," Ginny explained, then laughed. "Oh God, I am a gossip, aren't I?"

"You have finally seen the light!" I laughed with her. We laughed until our stomachs hurt and tears flowed don our cheeks. When we were finally calm, I threw my arms around Ginny and held her close. "I really have missed you Ginny."

"I have missed you also, sister," Ginny sighed. "Hey, er... would you mind teaching me how to read and write again?"

My eyes widened. "You... you don't know how?"

Ginny smiled sadly. "They only ever teach you how to speak in the lower school, so Papa started to teach me the year before he died. After he was... _gone_, I could only ever write my name and read a few words I memorized. I can write 'Ginny Potter' right now, but that is about it. I can barely read a word of the books in my room. If I can not do it myself, how can I teach my children?"

"Ginny, calm down. Of course I will teach you." I sighed.

This was one of the things I hated. Because of the whole 'women are property' thing, we were not allowed to attend school, and thus only knew what our parents cared to teach us. To my knowledge, my mother could not write at all and could only read little bits, so my father taught me what I knew. I then used that knowledge to get up to skill level I was today, but it slipped my mind that Ginny did not know how.

The King before King Lupin, King Fudge, feared that if women were to be educated, we would not want to play the role of respectful housewife and mother, so he banned education for girls over the age of five. My great-grandmother was one of the last women to graduate from an upper level school.

I still did not know where to begin, but sooner or later, I would have to find more women that shared my idea for freedom for all. I mean, it had been 40 years since colored people were finally given their freedom; had I been alive at the time, I would have been there fighting for their rights, too. But, instead of throwing the bondages on them, King Fudge sent it to the women instead. Honestly, we had as many rights as a priveledged slave.

"We can start in a few weeks. I can write a few practice sheets that one of your maids can read to you. I will ask one of them to help you when I am not available. You'll be reading and writing in no time." I smiled.

"Thank you Hermione. You are a great sister."

For the next three hours, Ginny and I went downstairs and helped the cooks in the kitchens. There were so many trinkets and instruments- one of which I was sure was some kind of rifle- and I didn't know how to use single one of them. Back home, we had wooden spoons, Wooden forks, a small sword to cut things, and a spatula to move the bread around in the oven outside. But here, in the King's kitchen, there was an entire room dedicated to such instruments.

If I had had enough time, I would have asked one of the girls to explain every device to me.

"Gin bug," Someone called from the door. I looked over to see Ginny's husband standing there.

"Harry!" Ginyn smiled, gracefully running over and throwing herself into his arms. "Is something wrong?"

"No, dear. I was sent to collect you and Draco's wife." Harry's voice faded as he looked at me, obviously not knowing my name. "And you are...?"

"Oh, right. Harry, this is my sister, Hermione. Hermione, this is Harry." Ginny motioned for me to come over.

I walked in front of them and was about to curtsy, but was stopped when Harry grabbed my hand and kissed the back of it.

"It is a pleasure, Mrs. Malfoy," He smiled at my blush.

"Oh, the pleasure is mine. Believe me." I laughed, jerking my hand away and hugging him. "You will find that we hug in my family. You will definitely know that when my mother comes to visit."

"Well, now I see where my Ginny gets her charm and wit," Harry winked, only to be lightly smacked in the chest by Ginny. I gasped. "Ow, woman!"

"You were flirting with my sister," Ginny said hesitantly. "I had to protect what was mine."

"Yes... well... please do not do it again," Harry said sternly, then sighed. "Because you hit hard, my beautiful flower. Had it not been for your wonderous curves and dainty beauty, I would suspect you were a prized fighter."

Ginny laughed and they embraced as if they had been married for 10 years. I desperately wished for what they for Draco and I. Although, I suspected any other man would have backhanded Ginny across the face for smacking him in public. That was the first moment I was extremely glad that Harry Potter was my brother-in-law.

"Hermione, Ginny, we must be going," Harry smiled, offering his arms to us. "There are a few friends you have to meet."

Ginny and I each grabbed an arm and let him lead us through the castle he was obviously very familiar with. 3 staircases and a few spiral steps later, we were let into a room with 3 other men inside, one of which was my husband.

"Ah, Hermione," Draco smiled slightly at me, giving me a look that clearly said 'behave'. "Come. There are a few people I'd like you to meet."

I nodded and walked slowly over to Draco, squealing softly when he pulled me into his lap.

"You have already met Harry, I presume?" He asked, and I nodded. "Good. Then I will not have to waste my time on his introduction."

"I can hear you very clearly, Malfoy." Harry smirked as he brought Ginny over to the circle of chairs, pulling her into his lap as well. "Just because you are not looking at me does not mean I am not there."

"I know," Draco smirked back. "Which is why I did not make any effort to hide my statement from you. Anyway, before I was rudely interrupted," Harry scoffed and rolled his eyes. "I was about to introduce you to my friends. Hermione, this is Blaise, my oldest and best friend. Blaise, this is Hermione- my wife."

The dark-skinned man stood up and kissed each of my cheeks, while I tried not to blush so red that my face would look like a tomato. "_Buon pomeriggio, bella_."

"Er... I am sorry," I said. "I did not understand."

"Do not worry, it is just italian," Draco rolled his eyes at the now laughing man. "He does it with every woman he meets. Do not come on to my wife again, you gormless bugger. You have your own."

"And I love my italian hellcat of a wife very much," Blaise sighed. "But there is nothing wrong with complimenting your best friend's wife. Besides, Julianna is 8 months pregnant and I need some sort of excitement. I am telling you- do not have kids. I have not so much as seen her naked since her fourth month."

"Well, you might if you would stop asking all of the time," A very pregnant woman waddled in and slowly sat herself on the chair right next to Blaise. "Contrary to popular belief, women do not want to be asked, 'are you ready yet?' at all times of the day."

"You are driving me insane, woman!" Blaise threw his hands into the air, but smiled nonetheless. Then, he kissed Julianna full on the mouth. "But I love you anyway. And our little _bambino_."

"_Te quiero tambien, bello_." She purred at him. "And what makes you think we are having a _bambino_? What if it is a _bambina?"_

"Then she will be very loved," Blaise sighed. "But this one is a boy. I can feel it."

"Sure," Julianna dissmissed him, then turned to us and smiled sheepishly. "I am sorry! How rude of me! My name is Julianna. I would get up to shake your hands, but it takes a lot more effort than you think to lift this out of a chair."

Ginny and I laughed when she gestured to her body. Everyone joined in the laughter when Blaise leaned over and gave her belly a sloppy kiss, effectively smearing saliva all over her dress. Julianna smacked him in the back of the head, then kissed the spot she hit when Blaise pouted at her.

"Draco, I do believe you have not introduced me yet."

"Ah, yes," Draco cleared his throat and gestured the dark-haired man sitting next to Blaise. "Hermione... this is Vincent."

"It is a pleasure," Vincent got out of his chair and gave the back of my hand a kiss, which gave me the strangest feeling that I should have hidden from him.

"It is nice to meet you too," I lied. Vincent sat down and I tucked my head into the curve of Draco's neck. I enjoyed the way he rubbed my back when I did that.

"I would like you to meet my wife," Vincent purred to me, before snapping his fingers. "Elisa!"

After a few seconds, Vincent smiled and raised his voice. "ELISA!"

"I am coming, sir!" I heard someone shout. Then, a small, brown-haired woman walked into the room, her stomach slightly rounded. I would say she was around 5 months pregnant. "I am so sorry! I-I was helping Liza with her chores-"

"I do not care for your excuses!" Vincent sneered at her. He then grabbed her and whispered something in her ear, before turning her to face us. "This is Elisa, my _wife_. Elisa, this is Draco, Blaise, Harry, and their wives." I noticed the way he practically spit the word 'wife' when speaking of her.

"Hello," She said quietly. Vincent grabbed her and put her in his lap.

Draco nudged me and mouthed 'say something'.

I cleared my throat. "You are pregnat, are you not, Elisa?"

Vincent nodded at her to speak. "Yes... around 5 months."

"That is great," I smiled, then looked at Ginny. "Right, Ginny?"

"Oh, yes! Great," Ginny nodded.

"Yes, it will be her first," Vincent smiled. "Show them the shirt my mother knitted for the child, Elisa."

Elisa's eyes widened. "I-I forgot it a-at home-" She started, then was puched off of Vincent's lap. "I am sorry, sir! I promise, I did not mean to-"

"I gave you one thing to do," He smiled angrily. "One. Damn. Thing. Yet you couldn't remember to do it?"

"I did not mean to forget it! I promise I did not know-"

We all winced when Vincent brought his hand down against her face with a loud _smack_. I brought my hands to my face to stifle the small gasp that came out of my mouth as Elisa stumbled back, one hand on her cheek and another and her stomach.

"Get out of my sight, you insolent girl." Vincent barked at her, pointing to the door.

Elisa began to cry as she ran out of the room as fast as she could possibly go. I looked at Draco as if I suspected him to do something, but he merely shook his head and gave me a look that said 'I cannot do anything about it'. The room was left in an awkward silence before Draco patted my back for me to stand up, then kissed me on the cheek.

"Hermione, Ginny, Julianna," Draco said stiffly, gesturing toward the door. "Would you mind stepping out for a moment? We have things to discuss that you women need not worry about. I believe the queen might appreciate your company."

The other two girls stood up and began to leave, but I turned to my husband.

"Draco?" I whispered.

"Go find her," He whispered back, patting my hand.

I nodded and left the room, closing the door behind myself. I immediately followed the two other girls into the kitchens, looking for someone who might have seen Elisa.

"I believe I saw her run out into the gardens." I turned to see the queen standing in front of the island in the kitchen, eating an apple she had just sliced. "She was crying, too. Is something wrong?"

"My queen," I said, the three of us curtsying slightly. "I did not see you there. Thank you for telling us where she is- we will just go and find her, now."

We began to leave. "Wait!" The queen said to us, waddling over. "I think I will come with you. I am great with advice, you know."

"You do not need to-"

"Nonsense, child!" She laughed, grabbing my arm as I lead her out. "My Remus tried to persuade me into many things, but you will find that I am not easily convinced. It would be easier if you just nodded and went along with what I do; it will save you much frustration."

I laughed. Despite being the queen and having the ability to order my death with the snap of her fingers, she seemed like such a nice woman.

"And please, call me Tonks," She nodded as she opened the door to the gardens. "It was my maiden name, but it is so much better than _Nymphadora_."

I was about to tell her that her name was beautiful, but stopped when I looked at who sat underneath the cherry blossom tree. Elisa sat with her back to the tree, crying and wailing with all her might. Tear streamed down her face and I could already see the bruise forming on her cheek.

"Oh, poor girl," Tonks sighed sadly, putting her hand over her heart.

We all walked over slowy, me bending down first since I was the only one who wasn't pregant that knew how to comfort someone. I put my hand on her shoulder and smiled slightly when she looked at me with red, puffy eyes.

"Sweetie," I said softly, opening my arms.

She wailed and leaned into me, her tears staining my dress. "I-I d-do not know w-what I d-do _wrong!_ I am j-just trying to b-be a good wife!" She cried.

I stroked her hair as the others gently sat down in a circle around us. "Sweetie, shh," I cooed. "It will be alright." She began to sniffle and shake. "Everything will be alright, Elisa. Shh."

We sat underneath the tree and waited for her to finish crying. She stuttered about how this wasn't the first time he had hit her, and something about her baby. She cried more and more until she seemed physically incapable of keeping it up anymore. She closed her eye and wiped her tears, then buried her face in her hands and took long, deep breaths.

That was the day I knew _I_ had to be the one to bring change. If not for myself and my children, then for women like Elisa who deserved better than the hand they were dealt.

* * *

**A/N:** _I disappeared for 2 1/2 weeks... and I'm sorry. A family member died, I'm starting to apply for colleges, I cried a lot... life happened. Meh. But, I'm back. I'm trying to update CRW, but it's a slow process. So... I'd love to hear your feedback on this. Any opinions on what Hermione should do? Any thoughts on the new characters I've introduced? **-Nikki a.k.a.- Twipotterfreak28**_


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